


Shackles of My Skin

by Quixotism



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: A blend of book and movie canon, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Gen, Jack Frost's life sucks, Legacies are serious business, M/M, Pitch Black Has Feelings, Well his unlife, don't expect it to be accurate, existential crisis whee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2042352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixotism/pseuds/Quixotism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katherine is dead, even if her legacy exists in the Guardians. But a soul such as Katherine’s is not so easily extinguished. And for Jack Frost, there are many more memories to uncover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your name is a golden bell

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be my Big Bang but I never got around to completing. Here's hoping posting it up will push me into doing so! Somewhat influenced by The Last Unicorn

Santoff Claussen has changed. 

No longer was it the gleaming peerless village of children and belief. Now, it belongs to one old man whose heart beats forever young as he hangs golden globes from his tree. The children had grown up, as all children are wont to do. Their parents took them to the four corners of the world after the Dark Ages with the promise to spread the tales of the Guardians. Their strongholds solidified, their powers grew. Ah, how times had changed, North thought to himself, hanging the last golden ball from the tree. In their dim shadows, the dreams of Santoff Claussen remain. The Sandman had fashioned the ornaments and had given to every child.

But when North remained, to take Santoff Claussen to the peaks of the Artic, they had given them to him. “To remember that there will always be belief,” Young William had said, “And you are never alone, even when times seem so lonely.”

He had been so lonely. But he had his Guardians; Bunny, Tooth, Sandy and finally, Jack Frost. Having a new Guardian around is still startling, but everyone adapted really well. Too well, in fact. North found it strange that, after their treatment of the boy, they finally took to him easily. 

“Ah,” North finally said, stepping back, “He is but a child.”

And they all loved children.

There was one piece left for his tree, the silver star of the north. It was Katherine’s star of nightlight and glimmer. She was always talented with her hands, learning from him and Ombric. She fashioned it out of remembrance and love for Nightlight, the Man in the Moon’s eternal guard. North placed it gently on the top, before clambering down the ladder. He always felt half empty after finishing the tree, his memories echoing in his mind like a hollow song. 

Perhaps he should stop with this tradition. Start afresh. Jack Frost, after all, has changed them all. 

After this Christmas Party, North will change things around here. That’s what the children would have wanted.

North always listened to the needs of children.

* * *

**Christmas Day, 11 Months After The Nightmare’s Defeat**

To say Jack was excited was an understatement.

He was _excitable_.

“Will you shut up already?” Bunny grumbled, shoving his face away from his position on Bunny’s back. He didn’t push very hard, so Jack was already on Bunny’s back as he hopped towards North’s Headquarters.

“But this is awesome!” Jack chattered, “A party! I’ve never been to a party—,” This time, Jack felt Bunny’s wince but he ignored it. No point in dwelling, “And I want to eat _all_ the cookies.”

“Tooth won’t be happy if you do,” Bunny mentioned.

“Pssh,” Jack said dismissively, “She won’t mind.”

“That’s what you think,” Bunny muttered with a low growl as they neatly popped out of a hole and into North’s balcony. Immediately Bunny clutched his arms while Jack chuckled, leaping through the doors. The sight of a gigantic fir tree, trimmed with baubles of all kinds emerged within his view. Jack let out a quiet exhale of awe as he floated around it. 

“Woah… where does he even get this stuff?” Jack poked a golden ball tentatively, watching the shadows play across the surface. _Huh…_ Jack squinted at it, watching the children talk to …what seems to be a worm? _Weird._ But maybe that’s the point. He floated closer, as the shadows became more detailed. _They looked so familiar…_ Jack shook his head. All children seemed that way after a while. After all, he kept trying to be seen. 

“Oi, you little blighter, are you gonna have those cookies you wanted so bad or am I gonna have them for you?” Bunny called out.

“Coming!” Jack yelled back, dropping down to the floor. He can look at the tree later. It’s not like it’s _going_ anywhere.

They stepped into North’s workshop. The halls were bustling with celebration and noise, which hurt Bunny’s ears. So they went private: Guardians Only. Jack snagged a cookie from Bunny’s plate, winking at the Tooth Fairies (watching them swoon and faint. He felt slightly bad about that (slight). Tooth gave him her customary hug and glared at the cookie as if it had told her it was a tooth mass murderer. She smiled at him though, “Hi, Jack. I’m glad you made it.”

“There was no way I’m missing a _party_ ,” He told her while Bunny snorted in the background. North simply laughed, slapping his belly. 

“Good, good! That is right spirit, Jack,” North said in his booming outdoors voice. Jack simply chuckled. 

“Thanks, North. Hey, I saw your Christmas tree. It’s pretty amazing. How’d you make the golden ones?” 

“I did not, Jack,” North replied, gesturing to Sandy who was on his fifth glass of eggnog and looking mighty pleased with himself, “They are Sandy’s work, not mine.”

“Sandy?” Jack echoed, staring at the Guardian. Sandy simply winked at Jack, his head showing the picture of a house and children. 

“I don’t get it,” he said, turning to North, “How come he made you something like that?”

Something unusual flickered in North’s eyes and Jack felt like retreating. North may be kind and wise, but he’s not less imposing. 

“Is present, Jack. From old friends, to keep memories. After all, not all are for Tooth,” North said, winking at Tooth, who had scrunched up her nose at him. 

It was Bunny who cleared the air, looking at North suspiciously, “It was made for the children of Santoff Claussen. Long ago, it was a village of wonder, hopes and dreams. After Pitch’s defeat, the children knew they needed to spread the stories of the Guardians to keep us alive. So they left this place.”

“ _This_ place? You mean….”

“Yep. This is Santoff Claussen,” Bunny gestured to the entirety of North’s room before crossing his arms again, “North and the village were close. So when they left, Sandy made North those globes so he could never forget them.”

“Wow…” A memento, a sign of eternity. Suddenly, Jack clutched his staff closer to his body. This was all he had left of his old life. 

“How long ago was that?” he said out loud.

“Long enough,” Bunny said, grim. North shot him an irritated look and Bunny rolled his eyes.

“It is in past, Jack,” North said soothingly, “Now, must look to the future, no?”

 _My past is everything to me,_ Jack thought, but he nodded anyway.

“Good, good! Now go find Phil. He needs to bring more refreshments.”

“Going!” And Jack shot out the door.

Bunny chuckled, but the grim dark was still in his green eyes and even Tooth seemed subdued. Alas, North thought, as bright and fresh as Jack is, he will never be their Katherine.

* * *

“And to continue my streak of messes… I got lost,” Jack muttered.

He was in a large room, with wide arcs reaching high above him. The room had no light, save a tiny window that let sunlight streak into the shelves. These shelves stretches to the top and were filled to the brim with books. The stale air and dust made Jack feel caged. Still, he stayed, glancing over the many titles. _Ombric Salazar’s Notes on Alchemy, The History of Djinni, Chronicles of Punja Loo, Sisters of Flight, Pookas: The Untold Story…_ Names and words that swam in front of him like heady perfume, clouding his mind. Jack randomly plucked out a book that said _Mother Goose’s Tales._ He could read, but barely. Years of teaching himself and learning through people’s interactions with the outside world had helped, but there’s no way he could read all of these.

And yet, this one book called out to him. It felt familiar under his fingertips, much like the wood of his staff. Jack flicked through the pages with interest. It was just a feeling after all. The words and sentences continued to look like gibberish to him.

“You there! Put that back!” 

Jack jerked, the book flopping onto his chest as he clutched it, “W… Who said that?!”

“I did! Now put that back! You can’t touch Katherine’s book willy-nilly you know!”

“Katherine?” Jack asked as he slotted it back. He scanned the room. He couldn’t see anyone anywhere. 

“Yes, yes, Katherine. Don’t you know anything?”

That stung. Jack hunched his shoulders defensively as he hunted for the source of the voice, “Yeah, well, it’s not like people tell me everything I need to know.”

An audible sigh was heard from the right shelf. Jack approached carefully, only to see the etching of a caterpillar on the shelf. It had a pair of glasses on and a tie. Quite frankly, it looked ridiculous. Jack snorted, “Some people have weird tastes in art.”

The etching spoke, “My taste has always been impeccable!”

“Whoa!” Jack stumbled backwards, “You… You talk!”

The caterpillar looked most exasperated, “Of course I can talk. What, did you think the books were talking to you?”

Jack took a furtive glance at the books.

“That was rhetorical!”

“Yes, sorry!” Jack cringed. Getting scolded by a caterpillar…. Boy, was he glad Bunny wasn’t here to see this.

“Katherine?”

Jack stared. The caterpillar stared back and shook his head, muttering, “You old fool, what were you thinking? That’s not Katherine….”

“Who’s Katherine?”

The caterpillar gave him a flat look, “None of your business.”

A spike of anger shot through Jack, “It is since you kept _yelling_ at me on her behalf.”

“It’s not my place to tell you,” the caterpillar said stiffly, “You just looked alike for a minute there, that’s all.”

“Katherine is a _girl’s name_ ,” Jack stressed, amusement twisting his grin, “You need better specs, worm.”

The caterpillar spluttered, “I am no worm, I am QUERTY, the remnants of Santoff Claussen’s library!”

“Wait, what? _You’re_ the library? You’re just a tiny caterpillar!” exclaimed Jack in disbelief.

QUERTY puffed his chest out, straightening his glasses in the woodwork, “Yes, well. During Pitch’s attack, I kept the books safe from his use by devouring them. Now they live on through me.”

“Pitch?” North hadn’t mentioned that part. So Pitch was around those days too…

“Yes, yes, Pitch Black, the Nightmare King,” QUERTY answered dismissively, “Only stopped by the Guardians and the efforts of Katherine and Night Light.”

Jack climbed onto his staff, crouched in a relaxed position, “Tell me about it.”

“You?”

“I’m a Guardian too,” Jack pointed out, “Shouldn’t I know my own history?”

“Hmph, I suppose…” QUERTY answered with a mutter, “There is no real harm in it.”

“Katherine…” Jack said quietly, “Who was she?”

“Katherine is Katherine,” QUERTY replied, “A child, no more special than anyone else, but her actions made her more special than anyone could be. I thought you were her because you both had the same eyes. Old and alive.”

Jack touched his cheek, just below his right eye. He had never paid much attention to what and how he looked, but now he was curious as to how he was seen, now that people paid attention. And it looked like a lot of attention was given to this ‘Katherine’.

“She was adopted by Ombric Salazar when her parents died at the foothills of Santoff Claussen. There, she was loved and loved in return. She was young in the eyes of adults and old in the eyes of children.” 

“So what happened?”

“Patience, I’m getting there! Many years passed and Nicholas St. North arrived at Santoff Claussen the same time Pitch returned to Earth as a meteor.”

 _Pitch…_ Jack’s feelings for the man were extremely conflicted. Perhaps hearing this story might not end well for his indecisiveness. Even now, his heart throbbed at the sight of the black, bloody hole in the ground at Burgess, hollow and deep. Pitch had screamed, yelled, tried to claw his way back. And Jack… Jack had done nothing.

Even now, Jack had done nothing, his victory against Pitch his only redeeming act. 

The caterpillar cleared his throat, his voice becoming sombre, “Thus began the War of Fearlings and where our story begins…”


	2. We are not always what we seem

_She was fading. They all knew it. Nightlight stroked she brow, murmuring low comforting sounds that no one could interpret. That only Katherine could understand and she was beyond such things now. And Katherine, beautifully strong Katherine was already gone. And he, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and couldn’t believe anymore…  
He had gone into darkness. _

“And then Katherine tossed the locket at Pitch, driving him away… Boy, are you even listening?”

Jack jerked, almost tumbling off his staff. QUERTY gave him a most exasperated look, “I don’t know why I bother.”

“No, no, I was listening! And I think I need to go back to North and the others, they must be wondering where I am by now,” Jack mentioned sheepishly, clambering down his staff, “Thanks for the stories.”

QUERTY puffed his chest out, “You’re welcome. It is my duty to educate the Guardians. “

Jack nodded quickly, hoping to avoid another history lesson, “Right, sure, you did well. Later!”

He darted out of the door before QUERTY could say anything else, his mind swimming with the things he has learned… not to mention the strange vision he had. Jack crept quietly back to North’s workshop, his hand blindly reaching for the doorknob and getting … someone’s tummy? Jack groaned, “Hi North.”

“Jack!” And Jack was spun around to face North, “Where’ve you been?!” 

“Sorry. This place has a lot of … corridors,” Jack finished lamely.

North gave him an unimpressed look. Bunny and Tooth seemed to be imitating North behind his back. Jack just sighed, “Sorry, so I met a talking caterpillar? His name is QUERTY?”

Tooth faltered while Bunny jerked back in surprise, before turning to North discreetly, “Isn’t he supposed to be sleeping?”

“Sleeping?” Jack echoed.

North shook his head at Bunny before facing Jack, “You have wandered far, my friend. Come. Have refreshments.”

Jack was sceptical, but he let North herd him away. He can get his answers later.

When the party finished, Jack was herded out with a “Happy New Year!”

He simply rolled his eyes and swept himself away on the wind. Guardians shouldn’t keep secrets from one another, Jack thought bitterly, but that’s fine. He knew one other person who could easily tell him everything Jack needed to know. Even if he needed a little persuasion. All Jack needed to do… was to find Pitch Black.

* * *

Pitch wasn’t in Burgess anymore. Jack wondered why Pitch was located in Burgess to begin with, but it wasn’t worth considering. He sat on his staff as he tried to rack his brain for finding Pitch. The Wind could do it for him but that might take a while. Maybe he should head towards the night shadowing half of the globe. At least that would narrow it down.  
Jack cocked his head, listening to the sound of the Wind as it rattled the windows of nearby houses. This was hopeless. How was he supposed to find Pitch? Why did he care about the unheard story of Katherine and Pitch and Nightlight?

He looked up to the faint outline of the Moon and said, “Sometimes, I don’t know how things got so good … and so bad. Sometimes, I wish you had let me be me.”

The Man in the Moon didn’t answer. He never did. 

He sighed, watching the sunset spread its dying tendrils of light across the horizon. Jack needed those answers, somehow. He closed his eyes—

_—and he watched as he tossed the locket at Pitch. He grasped it in the air with ease and clicked it open. What came out of his mouth horrified Jack as much as it had horrified Pitch. The unearthly screech of pain and loneliness tore through them all as Pitch vanished into the tunnel. He turned to Bunny, Bunny who was wearing a long, green coat, his boomerangs in his hands._

_“Where did he go?”_

_Bunny answered, “To the deepest, darkest corner he can find. That tunnel leads to the Krubera-Voronja Cave. The Crow’s Cave. Let him rot there. This battle is over.”_

_Jack nodded, turning to the children, “You’re all safe now,” he said in a gentle voice, young and calm. At the back of his mind, he felt the briefest touches of pity and knew there was no more hope for him._

Jack woke up in a mound of snow. Brushing himself off, he got up to look at the Moon once more. That was Katherine, not him. Why would he be seeing Katherine’s memories? 

Why now? 

But the Moon gave no reply and Jack shrugged nonchalantly. It wasn’t worth getting his hopes up when it came to “Manny”. With a wave of his hand, he leapt into the air and bellowed, “The Crow’s Cave!” and let the Wind take him towards Pitch.

* * *

Pitch was nowhere to be found. 

Jack wandered in the dark with only the faint light given out from his staff. He heard whinnying sounds, but nothing made a move to attack him, so he went further in the blackness. Water dipped from the stalactites. 

“Pitch?” Jack called out, “I’m not here to fight, just talk. Are you here?”

Whispers flooded his ears, ineligible and cruel, like the scraping of nails on a board. Jack winced. This felt too much like the time during Easter, when Jack was lured into a trap. 

Was he lured again, into another one? He shook his head clear and pressed on, “Please, Pitch.”

The whispers fell into a deathly hush and Jack felt claw-like hands dig into his shoulders, making him gasp.

“Hello, Jack.”


	3. It is all part of the fairytale

Jack was turned out swiftly and surveyed by eyes that eclipsed the sun. Jack was caught in them as they roved all over, searching for a hint of deception or trickery. But Pitch found nothing and was content to push Jack away as he stepped back, surrounded by shadows. Jack relaxed slightly.

“What is it you want so desperately, that you would wander in this nest of crows?” Pitch murmured, his voice cool and edged with the tone of royalty.

Jack hesitated. He wasn’t sure what to ask; just that he had to ask _something._

“The War with the Guardians. And a girl named Katherine. I think…. I feel I should know about it,” Jack said quietly, leaving out the part with his visions.

Pitch hissed, “Surely you can ask _them.”_

“They don’t want to tell me,” Jack snapped back, “But you _can!”_

“And why would I do such a thing?” 

“Because you wouldn’t care if it hurt me or not,” Jack replied.

Pitch flinched and then narrowed his eyes at him, “I _beg_ your _pardon.”_

“You heard me.”

For a while, Pitch said nothing, the shadows rolling out of him like storm clouds. Jack simply stood his ground. 

Pitch finally said, “That’s not true either,” and let it sink into Jack. 

“Sorry,” He didn’t have to say _for what_ and continued, “I’m having visions. I think I knew her. Katherine. But something’s … missing. Again.”

The Nightmare King was silent before he replied, “Katherine was only human. She was a courageous, strong, _vibrant_ human but that’s all she was. You’re imagining things, Jack. Katherine is gone. She used every part of her, all her hopes and dreams and fuelled it into belief. But it took her soul away.”

_She was fading away…_

Jack shook his thoughts away, “She died?”

“Did I say _died?_ No. She simply emptied herself for others. In the end, there was nothing left to sustain her,” Pitch continued, wistful.

“You… You miss her,” Jack whispered, stunned.

“As much as a person like me can miss anyone,” Pitch said blithely, “I can admire an enemy from afar.”

“Pitch, you hate your enemies,” And Jack felt his footing again, that he can make jokes with Pitch, that somehow, he was exempt, “Like, really badly.”

“True,” Pitch, murmured, his shadows undulating at the sound of his voice, “But I appreciate the fine edge of a knife.”

Jack sat down, his staff draped over his chest. Pitch noted the lax aura around the new Guardian and found it … calming. No one said the war against him had to be waged every second of the day. And Jack wanted to talk. Pitch found the sound of his voice soothing. Like a clear drink of water on a hot day.

“Why did she do it?” Jack questioned, out loud. Giving up her existence? It seemed so beyond Jack’s comprehension. He was given existence, was confused by it but losing it? He shuddered at the thought.

“Katherine brought the Guardians together. Yes, the Man in the Moon chose them but that’s all he could do for them. He could no more make belief for them any more than he can make stars in the sky,” Pitch said, “And with Nightlight’s help, she spread her own feelings about them into the world. People _discovered_ the Guardians through Katherine. You could say all of humanity houses a part of her even now.”

“I guess the Guardians never came to terms with that…” Jack trailed off.

“Would you have done it? Sacrificed yourself in such a way?” 

_No,_ came the answer deep within him but Jack said, “I don’t know.”

“Liar,” Pitch delighted in the way Jack stiffened, the fluttering of fear in his eyes, cast in unholy blue, “You despise the idea. It took so long for you to have the recognition you wanted, the _need_ to be wanted that Katherine’s decision is _terrifying.”_

_“I’m not Katherine!”_

Pitch blinked.

Jack swallowed, “I don—I have to go. Go now.” 

With that, Jack flew out of the cave like a harrowing wind while Pitch was left to contemplate what just happened.


	4. Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm really impressed by the responses I'm getting for this story! I'm sorry updates have been slow (work and studies can do that to someone) but I'm going to try and make sure this story will be completed. Thank you all for your kind thoughts and kudos.

Jack couldn’t breathe.

His heart gasped along with his body and he tumbled out of the cave to land on a rock face. Jack’s body ached with forgotten and remembered pain, his staff skittering away from his hands. Unknown thoughts and feelings invaded his mind like a dizzying rain and he choked on them. Wonder, love, hopes, dreams, family, saving, saving the one, saving someone, emptiness… 

Jack looked at the Man in the Moon and he said, “What did you do to me?” before blacking out.

It seemed like the Moon was brighter than normal too.

* * *

There was a faint light in front of him. Jack groaned, trying to blink it away, but it stayed, hovering above him and murmuring soft noises of anxiousness. He tried to bat it away, yet it simply moved out of his reach. Finally, coming properly back to consciousness, grumpily, Jack sat up and said, “Cut it out!”

And stared.

There was a boy, around the same age and height as himself, who seemed to be glowing. He had short hair with a tiny curl as a fringe just above his nose and he seemed to be doing a great imitation of a lightbulb. He was dressed in fancy clothes with buttons. Jack simply stared at him some more.

The Amazing Glowing Lightbulb Boy seemed relieved that he had woken up and gently hoisted Jack to his feet, treating him like he was fragile. Jack swallowed, forcing a smile onto his face, “Hi?”

The GlowBoy (Jack was just going to call him that, it was simpler) gave him a slow, beautiful smile and Jack felt the lump in his throat reappear. Still, he wanted answers, “Uh, hi, who’re you?”

GlowBoy made a bunch of chattering noises that sounded like moonbeams landing on soft leaves, but Jack couldn’t comprehend it, “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” 

He looked so morose that Jack softened the blow, “Maybe you should say it slower—,”

A blast of nightmare sand sent GlowBoy flying into a mountain. Jack gaped, turning to face Pitch, “What was that all about?!”

Pitch looked livid, “Nightlight.”

Jack liked GlowBoy better, “Who is Nightlight?”

“The Man in the Moon’s precious henchman,” Pitch snarled, standing next to Jack. For some reason, it made Jack’s heart flicker like a flame in the wind.

“Uh, maybe I should just leave you two alone…” Jack said as he tried to edge away. But an intense pain caught him in the chest and he dropped to his knees.

“Jack?” Pitch said cautiously, stepping closer, “What is wrong?”

Why do you care, Jack thought rebelliously, but he whimpered piteously instead. Pitch bent down to look at him, looking oddly pensive. Someone else also came closer, Nightlight, murmuring soft words of concern to which Pitch snapped, “What do you mean, soul displacement?!”

Pitch sounded really angry. 

Nightlight made a few chirping noises, like birds in spring and Pitch scowled, “Fine, take him to North. See if I care.”

His heart was in his mouth as Jack tried to speak, but Nightlight calmly lifted him to his feet, whistling for the Wind (he thought he was the only one who could do that). From the corner of his eyes, he saw Pitch’s hands reach for him, as if he changed his mind. But it stopped glancing short of Jack. With that last image in mind, Jack blacked out once more.  
(He refused to say fainting. It felt less manly)

* * *

_He had just put Kailash to sleep when Nightlight crept through her window. He giggled at him._

_“You’re not supposed to be here at night,” he said playfully, “Ombric won’t approve.”_

_He laughed a clear light sound. Nightlight wrapped his arms around a slim waist, his face in his long curling hair. Nightlight murmured in his language, burrowing his face deeper. He placed his hands over Nightlight’s, rocking himself back and forth, like the lull of a rock-a-bye horse. Nightlight said something but he simply said, in a simple childish tone, “It will be all right.”_

_They stayed like that for the rest of the night._

* * *

Jack woke up to the smell of cookies.

“See? Works every time,” North said while Bunny rolled his eyes.

“Wh—What?” Jack muttered, trying to sit up, but the pain in his chest forced him down again.

“Easy there, “ Bunny said soothingly, his tone for renegade eggs and lost children, “You’re not ready to go up and running again.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on?!” Jack looked at their faces. They looked somber, oddly so. Jack felt his stomach roll.

“Jack…” Tooth said softly, “This is Nightlight. He’s the personal Guard of the Man in the Moon. He was Katherine’s… He was Katherine’s. “

“That has nothing to do with me!” Jack yelled. In his heart, he doesn’t care anymore. About Katherine, about the history of the Guardians, of anything… Why can’t they want him for him? 

Nightlight stroked his brow. Jack swatted his hand away with a glare. Nightlight looked suitably chastised. 

“He sensed that you have two souls,” North finally said, his voice heavy, “Two souls in one body. Somehow you have awakened the other and it is … interfering with you.”

“That’s impossible,” he replied flatly, “I’m Jack. I’ve always been Jack.”

“That’s what we thought too,” Tooth said, trying to pacify him, “And you’re important to us!”

“There’s a but in that sentence,” Jack said pointedly.

Tooth looked deeply uncomfortable and Jack almost felt bad for her. Almost.

“You remember QUERTY, yes?” North said, casually, “Talking worm?”

“Sure. I met him yesterday.”

“That talking worm, not usually awake! He’s mostly sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Jack repeated, remembering the caterpillar rouse itself, “How did it wake up?”

“Not how. Who.” 

“Are you scolding me for waking up some talking caterpillar?” There was a lump in his throat. It was an accident. Were they sending him away? Would he have to stop being a Guardian? His head swam with possibilities.

“No! No. It was not you, but your other soul.”

“Okay, seriously, enough dancing around! Just spit it out!”

“Katherine,” Nightlight murmured. 

Jack jerked his head to stare at him.

“Katherine,” he said, mutely.

Nightlight chirped in moonsong.

“I’m … I’m Katherine?” Jack whispered.

“Jack…” Tooth said piteously.

“Is that even my name?” Jack said, the hysteria rising up like bile in his throat, a burning cold.

“Yes, it is your name, Jack, you’re not…” Bunny said.

“Any different?” Any freakier? He wanted to learn her life, not _be_ her life! 

“It is true. You are still Jack Frost,” North reassured him, “You are Guardian. That has not changed.”

“So why now?” Jack looked at them quizzically.

“Ah. Nightlight here thinks that you met the requirements of keeping her soul when you entered the library. You possessed something in you that made Katherine choose you.”  
You have something very special inside.

Jack swallowed. His eyes pricked him, but they were easy enough to hide, “You kept her soul?”

“Not exactly. She slept here,” North gestures to the workshop, “Santoff Claussen. To awake for next big emergency. When all lights go out.”

“Then why didn’t she wake up when we fought Pitch?” Jack questioned, “That was pretty dire straits, even for us, right?”

North turned to Nightlight who simply shrugged, “I do not know.”

Jack sank back into bed. Great. Just great.

* * *

They kept him in bed for ages. Jack would have gone mad with boredom if it weren’t for the persistent flashes of memory that caught him off guard and made his eyes water. Nightlight was always there, like Jack’s personal … well, personal nightlight. Sometimes, Jack could make out what he’s saying but more often, he felt frustrated by their lack of communication and understanding.

When Nightlight takes his hand in the cold nights, Jack felt like he wanted to cry from the simple joy of it. But he thought of Katherine and he wanted to throw his insides out.  
None of this was his. Nothing was his.

Jack threw the covers off him. Nightlight wasn’t there for once. He had gone to confer with North on what to do with Katherine’s soul (no one seemed to pay much attention to Jack’s soul though). He tiptoed to the window, watching the icy patterns swirl under his fingertips. This, at least, had not been taken from him. A cold gladness filled his heart. He was still Jack Frost.

“Having an existential crisis, Jack?”

Jack spun around, grabbing his staff, “Pitch?!”

“In the flesh. Metaphorical flesh,” Pitch looked at Jack’s staff disdainfully, “Put that away, I came to talk, not take a beating.”

Jack lowered it slowly, “Spit it out.”

“I think I can help you.”

“Okay,” Jack said, “Why?”

This is the first time he has ever seen Pitch look so … indecisive, “It’ll work better in our mutual interests.”

“The Guardians are already working on it.”

“As if those blundering fools would think of you first instead of Katherine!”

Jack stopped breathing.

Pitch straightened, his eyes eclipsing the room around them, “I am thinking of you, Jack.”

“Why would you…?” 

“Because I seem to be the only one who is,” Pitch spat out, disgusted.

Jack slowly lowered his staff. His heart thudded furiously and all he could keep thinking was Pitch’s offer in the blackened ice of the Antarctic, so painfully despondent.  
“I just….” Jack choked out, “I just want to be me.” 

Pitch’s expression flickered and without hesitation, extended his hand to Jack, “Come with me.”  
Jack looked back at his window, the frost slowly flaking away.

And he took Pitch’s hand.


	5. Interlude: The happy end cannot come in the middle of the story.

The Fearlings were destroyed. 

Katherine watched as the last one screeched as North’s blade cut it in half, turning the remains into wisps of smoke. Aster cheered while Tooth floated in the air, a look of grim courage on her face with the faintest smile. The moon glowed above them and Katherine knew they were blessed.  
Nightlight took her hand and squeezed it.

It’s over, she thought. Ombric’s life, Kozmotis’ life… they have been avenged.

Speaking of the Nightmare King, he lay on the ground, gasping for breath. He could not be killed (they tried) for fear must exist, always. The Man in the Moon had told them he possessed no magic to rid them of the Nightmare King.

In Pitch’s twitching hand, lay the pendant containing his past. Katherine bent down and closed his fingers over it. The pain on his face was etched on her like a vivid daydream.

_What happens now? To all of us?_

_Is this the legacy we’ll leave behind?_

Katherine watched Pitch stutter while the Guardians basked in the moonlight.

_It can’t be all there is._

_It simply cannot be._

Pitch’s fingers spasmed before clenching the locket in a death grip. Katherine knew whose picture was in it, even if Pitch did not remember. Pain was all Pitch recalled. Pain was Katherine’s birth place, her beginning. It started when her parents died. 

_Will it end with Pitch’s death?_

The glow of the moon beamed down upon them and she could hear the voice of Tsar Lunar in her head, like a summons.

_It will take courage._

_I am no more courageous than the others. Not more than North or Bunny or Tooth._

_Only you can do it._

_Why?_

The moon offered no answer.

She turned her head to look at Nighlight, North… her friends. Her dearest comrades. They were all she had, her family.

“My… My…” Pitch stuttered out.

She had her answer.


	6. Real magic can never be made by offering someone else's liver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sloooow but reallll lifeee. At least we're ... getting somewhere. Weeps.

Jack yelped as he fell to the floor with a clatter. Groping for his staff, he climbed to his feet unsteadily. Pitch was looming over him, looking deliberately unconcerned. Jack noticed that he was trying too hard.

“Okayyyy,” Jack said finally, glancing around. It was Pitch’s lair, of course, full to the brim with his creeping gothic scenery. It made him shudder and think of memories long past, of clever cold shadows, gnawing at his feet. Pitch must have noticed because for the first time since arriving at Santoff Claussen, he looked away.

“I thought this place could afford you your privacy,” Pitch said, “And give you a place for us to continue our discussion.”

Jack shrugged, “It wasn’t much of a discussion. You offered. I took.”

“But why now? I have offered you things before.”

“Not without a price,” Jack replied, steady, “Not without wanting everything else.”

“It was my right!” Pitch hissed.

“I’m not a trophy!” Jack snapped back, “Deal with it.”

Pitch reared his head back, much like his own Nightmare horses before settling down, brushing his hair back smoothly with his hands, “No matter. It is in the past.”

 _Aren’t we all grounded in the past? That’s all we care about. Even me,_ Jack thought before replying, “What’s your past?”

Pitch looked like he wanted to tear out Jack’s throat for such a question. Jack simply stood his ground, holding his staff protectively in front of his chest, “Just tell me.”

“You think just because of who you are, the world will lay itself at your feet?” Pitch cackled, “You’re not Katherine.”

“Exactly,” Jack said, “I’m not. I’ll never be Katherine and I don’t want to be. I just wanted to know.”

He was regarded solemnly by Pitch. He almost wanted to scream at him, throw a tantrum, anything to prove how different he was from Katherine. Everything had gone out of control ever since he stepped into that library. He was Jack Frost. Before that, he was Jack, human Jack, Jack of a family, a family he loved and lost while clutching to the faintest traces of a happy memory.

What was he now? A freak of nature. The Guardians don’t need him, they need Katherine. And Pitch needed…

Jack wanted Pitch to need him.

Was that so much to ask?

Pitch said finally, “You are Jack Frost. There’s nothing wrong with knowing the history of the Guardians.”

It was like giving a dog a bone and Jack took it with hungry eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I know I just joined up but these things… I should know them. Maybe in them, there’s a clue about getting rid of Katherine’s soul.”

“You cannot get rid of a soul,” Pitch said in a scolding tone, “They are immortal beacons of light, untouchable by fear or darkness or moonlight. Only souls can decide where they want to go and they go where they are most needed.”

“Okay, so why me?”

“You know I don’t know that and neither do the Guardians.”

“See, this is why this history stuff is important.”

Pitch huffed, “Yes, fine, I see your point,” he ignored Jack’s smirk, “Katherine was a normal human girl who grew up in Santoff Claussen. She was brave and she wanted to help, which is why she traveled with the Guardians to begin with. You could say she was the foundation, the glue that bound them together.”

Jack blinked, “How?”

“Don’t ask me how,” Pitch snapped, brittle, “She did it somehow.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Okay, sure. What did she do to you?”

He had never had the pleasure of seeing a perplexed Nightmare King who said dumbly, “To me?”

“Yeah, to you. She got in your way, right?”

“Yes, certainly…” Pitch trailed off awkwardly. Jack squinted at him.

“What did she do? She did something, right?”

“She …gave me something. A trinket of sorts,” Pitch said finally.

“A trinket?”

“It was a pendant. It has value to me,” and that was all Jack was going to get from the way Pitch pursed his lips tightly, steady white lines across his face. He sighed. This was going to be tougher than he thought, if Pitch was his only ally.

“New topic. How do I move Katherine’s soul if I can’t get rid of it?” Jack queried.

“Well I would consider moving it to another host, but soul transfers are tricky things. There is a lot of power in a soul, untapped and unknown. The only person who has mastered such an art ….,” Pitch trailed off, smirking slightly, “You know of him already.”

“The Man in the Moon,” Jack realized, “Do you think he _did_ this to me?”

“The possibility exists, though it’s hard to tell with _him_ ,” Pitch said blithely, but Jack could sense the cold edge of rage. 

Jack thought back to the Man in the Moon. While he understood and sympathized with Pitch’s grudge, he found that anger no longer dwelled within him. A part of him _does_ feel that the Man in the Moon has used him, but the Man in the Moon also gave him another life. And as difficult as being Jack Frost has been, Jack wouldn’t give it up. He wanted to live, wanted to spread his brand of joy, wanted to live on wind and moonbeams forever. How could he hate that?

Pitch was eyeing him so Jack shook himself out of his reverie, “So I guess asking him is out of the question,” he replied casually. 

“Indeed,” Pitch said smoothly, “However, there is one other person we could contact.”

“Who?”

“Ombric Salazar.”

Jack blinked, “Who brick who now?”

Pitch pinched the bridge of his nose, “Have those incompetent fools taught you nothing?” he lamented.

Jack smirked, “Well, you _did_ call them incompetent.”

“Touché,” Pitch murmured, pleasantly surprised by Jack’s banter, by how natural it came to them. Is this what it would have been like, he mused, if Jack had chosen to stay by his side? Everything about this felt . . . normal, like the light breeze drifting into one’s home. Is this the feeling Jack Frost brings with him?

Jack was looking at him quizzically, so Pitch brushed those thoughts away, “While Salazar is long gone, we can contact his soul from the Dreamscape.”

Jack leaned against his staff, “And that would be . . . ?”

“Where the souls go,” Pitch continued without a pause. He knew that would be Jack’s next question and didn’t give room for more, “I told you before, souls do not _disappear_. They leave for better pastures, so to speak. The Sandman maintains those pastures for them. No doubt Salazar will be there.”

“And he’ll know what to do,” Jack supplied hopefully, “Because _that_ is the whole point of this, right? To be me again and not some weird host to a little girl?”

“That is the plan,” Pitch said, scrutinizing Jack once more. Jack squirmed under his gaze. While it was nice to have the attention focused on him, he never got used to the idea of being looked at. Most times, people looked _through_ him, not _at_ him and even now the mix of feelings in his chest were not altogether pleasant. 

“Okay, cool,” Jack said, mostly to reassure himself, “We’ve got a game plan. Let’s get this done.”

But even to Jack, it sounded woefully fake.


	7. And hardly ever what we dream

Apparently it takes more than a few words and dedication to get a plan to work. Pitch needed to gather ingredients and it needed to happen at the right time (without a moon in sight, he informed Jack, as it would draw the attention of you know who). That left Jack with a lot of time on his hands since Pitch seemed to be doing most of the work (and shooing Jack away from said work).

He was _bored_. The visions had stopped creeping into him during the day (though in the nights they were relentless. Jack would wake up and imagine curls creeping up to his shoulders and it took him more than a few minutes to remember his name). He considered asking Pitch for some nightmare sand but thought better of it. Who knows what they would conjure up?

While better sense told him to be patient, Jack just wasn’t meant to be cooped up in one place for so long. The whistle of the wind was unheard of in Pitch’s gloomy cavern . . . palace . . . place . . . Jack lacked the words for the gothic décor but he’s sure none of them were pleasant sounding. And there was absolutely no way to keep himself occupied other than icing the floors and riding the Nightmares into a frenzy. Sadly, Pitch put a stop to that, leaving Jack out of ideas on how to entertain himself. 

One good thing about Pitch’s lair (and didn’t that sound ludicrous, his _lair_. Pitch did some evil and dumb things but he was no _supervillain_. Just a bitter person who occasionally does more than yell at kids to get off his lawn) is that it was large and Jack enjoyed exploring it. There were potholes and passages leading to almost every single place on Earth and Jack mapped them out with light steps. It was like stepping into an entirely new world. Even though it was dark and seemed unfriendly, Jack found it . . . comforting. It was as if the planet was saying, “We’re all connected, above and under”. It wasn’t the same as watching the world from the sky, of course and Jack wondered if this is why Bunny enjoyed his tunnels so much. 

Jack let his hands trail over the rough grooves of rock as he went through another tunnel. He discovered this one yesterday and hadn’t had time to follow it to the end. This one was dusty and it looked like Pitch hadn’t used it in years. All the more reason to see where it goes, Jack decided, walking calmly onward, his staff lighting the way. 

It led upwards to a small trapdoor. Curiously, Jack pushed at it and it creaked under his hands, slowly giving way. Jack peeked through the cracks, his eyes flitting over every corner. The room was deserted, with grime and cobwebs filtering the spaces in between. Jack coughed, moving the door aside and climbing into the room. It was an old shack from the looks of things, Jack surmised, trailing a finger in the dust. He rubbed his fingers contemplatively. Why would Pitch have a tunnel leading to an empty house? There certainly weren’t any kids to scare and it didn’t look like there was anything of value hidden away. 

He swung his staff experimentally, watching it catch webs with a grimace. There was something here, something he couldn’t put his finger on. It was hard to tell if these were his instincts at play or Katherine’s. Jack scowled. He would rather not take cues from her if possible, but it was getting harder and harder to separate the two. Jack can’t even hold onto the small things, the little bits of himself seem to be floating away every day. And no one cares. No one seems to care. With a pang in his heart, Jack wished he hadn’t left the Guardians so abruptly. Seeking help from Pitch Black? What was he thinking? He must be going mad from the start. 

Jack flopped onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling, “Nobody cares,” he said dully. 

“Not with that attitude.”

Jack yelped, scuttling back. There was Pitch, looking down at him with a bored expression. At least, that’s what Jack thought, but Pitch’s eyes seemed to be boring into him, like twin suns in the dark.

“Are you done feeling sorry for yourself, Jack?” Pitch replied, flicking dust from his cloak in disgust. That gesture filled a well of anger in Jack, ready to burst. 

“What would you know about it?” Jack muttered, averting his eyes. 

“I know,” was Pitch’s blithe reply, causing Jack to stare at him sharply, “Now come along. It’s time for the ceremony and we can’t afford to be late.” 

Jack took one more look at the empty cabin. Abandoned by all except for one lone tunnel that led back to Pitch. It would make a great analogy, Jack thought, if it didn’t hurt him so much.

* * *

Pitch was drawing intricate designs onto the ground with nightmare sand and Jack repressed a shudder as it writhed on the floor, a living coiling thing ready to strike. Pitch noticed Jack’s reticence and rolled his eyes, “Afraid, Frost?”

“I’m not afraid of that,” Jack snapped back, “I’m just afraid it won’t work.”

Pitch simply clicked his tongue, a normal bemused sound that it caught Jack’s breath, “It will work,” he said with complete assurance, “I have done this ritual plenty of times, albeit never with this particular person.”

“Why not?”

“Ombric Salazar and I are, shall we say, old foes. I doubt he’d want to converse with me under any circumstances,” Pitch said conversationally but his eyes glittered with malice. Old grudges die hard apparently. 

“So what makes you think this will work?” Jack questioned again and ducked a swat from Pitch’s hand. He was testing Pitch, pushing him to his limits, he knew but he had to. Pitch was the only person who seemed to . . . bother about Jack’s existence.

 _At least until he can figure out a way to use me,_ Jack thought spitefully, _Like everyone else_. 

“It _will_ work because Ombric was Katherine’s father,” Pitch ignored Jack’s astonishment, “And he will do what’s right by Katherine’s soul.”

Jack swallowed, “But how will he—,”

“—Know? He will know. He is a father,” And here Pitch’s voice dropped low, like the eventide, “There is no doubt of that. Now hush. The light is catching the dark and I cannot be here when the sorcerer arrives.”

“Pitch I don’t—,” Jack wrung his hands, “What do I even _say to him?_ ”

“The truth.”

“But—,”

“ _Jack_ ,” and Pitch caught Jack’s chin under his long fingers, looking _at_ him. Not down, not preaching, not judging, just a steady gaze that held Jack’s heart in the quiet, “Be yourself. Tell the truth.”

His heart was hurting. It was so sharp against his chest, almost a living breathing thing in a body of cold stone. Jack was overwhelmed and yet, in the corner of his mind, he could hear a voice going, _Yes, this is what I want, I want to you to look at me, look at me, don’t stop—_

Jack tore his gaze away and nodded. Pitch watched him quietly for a few seconds before disappearing into the shadows. Jack sat down crossing his legs, his staff resting quietly against the knees. Black sand twisted and yowled against cold stone as the stars slowly blotted themselves out. There was nothing, but the overwhelming dark and Jack felt lost. 

Then a voice called out to him, “Katherine?” 

It was Ombric Salazar.


	8. That I lied for your love most monstrously?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all for your kudos and comments! They are amazing and they really make my day. After much work and various real life commitments, I am getting back on the horse. This chapter is a bit short but it's going to lead up to bigger things, so I thought to end it there.

Jack scrambled in the dark, backing away from the voice. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness and his staff remained cold and unlit. What perfect timing, he thought to himself bitterly, trying to catch his breath.

“Katherine?” Ombric called out again quizzically, “Is that you, dear?”

“Uh,” Jack grappled with the right words, “Not . . . quite.”

There was a conspicuous pause and Jack found it hard to breath. How could darkness be so cloying? He rubbed his throat, white fingers moving in the silence. 

“Who are you, my boy?” And the voice was gentle, not judging, “I can sense Katherine but you are not her. Who ae you?”

“Jack . . . Frost,” Jack blurted out.

“Ah!” And the delight was unfeigned, “The new Guardian! How delightful! How are the others? Does Bunnymund still have that problem with confectioneries and chocolates? The poor soul, he does love them so. And the magnificent Toothiana, does she still have her sabers?”

Jack’s mind was whirling, trying to catch up with Ombric’s train of thought. Sabers? Chocolate? He found it hard to picture the others the way Ombric was. The idea of mild-mannered Tooth swinging around pointy swords while Bunny apparently had some kind of chocolate fetish was a bit much. Even for him. 

Finally, Jack hesitatingly replied, “Look, I don’t know whether they still do all that stuff . . . you’re better off taking it up with them. I’m just here because . . . because . . .” his throat tightened. This was Katherine’s _father_. How would he feel if Jack wanted to cast out Katherine’s soul? Was he being too cruel? Katherine was a child too. Wasn’t he bound to protect all children at the expense of himself?

 _Then what will be left of you?_ a treasonous voice replied back nastily, _You’re not that good a person, Jack Frost_

“Ah,” the voice sounded old and frail, “Katherine has taken up residence and confused you, hasn’t she?”

Jack blinked, “Wait, how can you tell?”

“My dear boy, I am a magician without peer, even though I have passed from the living,” the man replied, sounding somewhat affronted, “But I do not think you need to worry so much.”

“Uh, I think I do,” Jack replied cautiously. 

“Katherine would never hurt you. Or anyone. It’s not in her to do so. Most likely, there is something unfinished, something missing . . .” Ombric trailed off. He sounded confused, as if he couldn’t put his finger on Katherine’s decision to linger. And if Ombric didn’t know, what hope did Jack have of finding out?

“Nevertheless, my boy, I do not think you need to fret so much,” Ombric finally said, “But if you want my advice, find Nightlight.”

“The . . . glowbug?” Jack blurted out, “I can’t even communicate with him!” 

“He is your best chance,” the voice said, a steady glimmer, “Nightlight knows the soul.” 

Jack’s brow creased in the dark, “Whose soul?”

“Whose indeed,” and the voice sounded old and tired. Jack felt a twinge of pity for him, bringing him out into this conversation.

“Okay. . . uh, thanks. I know this must have been hard for you,” Jack said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Jack Frost,” Ombric murmured, like the rumble of a train, “Be careful of Pitch.”

At that moment, Jack was extremely aware of the cloying darkness around him, knowing that Pitch can’t be far and could probably hear this. Still, he had to take his chances, “Why?”

“He still wants her,” Ombric said, “And he may not have your interests in mind.”

 _He still wants her_.

Something in Jack broke, like ice on earth. Pitch wasn’t really trying to help him, he wanted to free Katherine . . . he wanted Katherine back. Just like the Guardians. Just like everyone else. 

No one wanted Jack. 

It was hard to breathe and Jack knew at the moment, he had to leave or Pitch would trap him in his lair. He whistled to the wind, loud and clear, as he snuffed out the lights and sped away to one of the exits.

As he flew, just briefly, he thought he heard Pitch howl in despair.


	9. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many more chapters this story has left. I might cap it at 17 - 20 but things are moving along!

Jack couldn’t tell how long or far he flew. His line of vision was a blur of clouds and the night sky. He scrubbed at his face furiously, trying to wipe away the tell-tale signs of sorrow. It _hurt_ , to know that briefly he trusted Pitch, that he believed in his own way, Pitch had _Jack’s_ interests at heart and not Katherine’s. But in the end, everyone wanted Katherine. Would they sacrifice Jack in expense for her, the amazing girl who changed the world, who gave up her life to bring wonder and joy, whose existence guaranteed the continuation of all the Guardians. 

He was the lesser person here, the selfish one, who can’t fight her. He should just give up and let her win, let her take over his life so she can live. He’s a Guardian. Didn’t he sign up for this, to live for the children? 

Shouldn’t he do this?

Lost in his thoughts, Jack promptly flew straight into a tree and fell onto the ground, hitting every branch along the way.

“Oww. . .” Jack groaned, flopping uselessly onto the ground, tugging twigs and leaves out of his hair. _Forget it,_ he thought dully, _Just gonna lie here forever and feel bad._

He could see the moon from the corner of his eye and he turned his body away. What’s the point of being Jack Frost if no one wanted Jack Frost? Why was he even Jack Frost?   
“This,” he turned back around and pointed to the moon, “Is your fault. I never asked for this and now I’m here –,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, “—and all I want right now is for someone to want me to _be_ here.”

The moon simply hung there, bathing him with its gentle glow. Squeezing his eyes, Jack turned on his side, wrapping his arms around his body. He didn’t care . . . he didn’t . . . 

Then he heard something land on the ground, like the pit patter of rain on leaves. It was so soft that he would have missed it if it hadn’t been so close to his face. Jack slowly opened his eyes to see luminescent curled shoes and looked up. It was Nightlight. Nightlight, whose eyes seemed repentant and . . . sad. For some reason, that made Jack feel worse, like a chasm of grief had opened up below him. He pushed himself up, sitting straight and resentfully looked away, “What do you want? Worried about your _precious_ Katherine’s soul?”

Nightlight’s brow creased in a silent frown and his eyes simply widened in surprise. Jack winced. Great, he hurt Nightlight’s feelings. Could he behave any worse? His chest stung and he fiddled with the strings of his hoodie instead, looking down. It was easier not to look at Nightlight. It was easier to pretend Nightlight wasn’t looking through him, for a reminder of another person.

Nightlight twinkled, like the blinking of a star and extended his hand towards Jack.

“What? I’m not going back!” he protested, crossing his arms in anger. 

Nightlight shook his head quietly, leaving his hand there, his eyes beckoning to Jack. After a few seconds of silence, Jack couldn’t help it. He yearned for it, the contact of being reached out. Jack finally took Nightlight’s hand, wrapping his cold fingers around Nightlight’s glowing palm.

The silent sentinel of the golden age smiled and without warning, he started flying towards the sky. Jack yelped, barely managing to keep up.

“A little warning would help!” he protested, clutching onto his staff tightly.

Nightlight didn’t say anything but Jack got the distinct impression that he was being laughed at. He decided to stick his tongue out at the glow bug as a response.   
They floated away from house and people, deeper into the sky, until the lights were mere pinpricks in the distance and they were surrounded by a sea of clouds. It was like being adrift without an ocean and Jack’s breath caught at the sight. Nightlight looked at his awe with a soft smile, the kind that caught the light of stars in his face.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jack whispered.

Nightlight shrugged loosely, turning to the stars. The moon seemed large and bulbous in the background, bathing the clouds in its white light. The stars hovered around them like silent spectators. It was silent, above the world, as if nothing else existed but Jack and Nightlight, two lone magical boys who will never grow up. This was their Neverland. 

Jack didn’t reply, soaking up the quiet atmosphere. Up here, things didn’t seem . . . so bad. It took away the reality and left him with the dream. Being somewhere, anywhere . . . with someone who cared about him. 

But that was a dream. Here, among the clouds and stars, it was a thing of imagination. And Jack needed – _wanted_ more. Still, he appreciated this little token of beauty that Nightlight gave him. It sort of mended the bridge between them and the name of Katherine hanging over their heads seemed nothing more than a breathless whisper.

“Thank you,” he said, ducking his head a little, “For . . . bringing me here. For taking the time to – to look after me.”

Nightlight grinned, voluminous and bright, and pressed a kiss to Jack’s knuckles. Jack yanked his hand away immediately, holding it close to his chest. They hung there, watching each other, two ships on an open sea. Even if Jack accepted that Nightlight cared about him, in some way, wouldn’t Katherine and their past always hang over their heads? Did he really want to follow this path? Was he that desperate?

 _Ombric did say that Nightlight had the answers you need,_ a voice in his mind reminded him, _If you want to know more, you’ll need his help_. 

_Yes_ , he was. He felt alone, more than ever. Maybe he should stop caring, as long as someone wants him around in some small way. Hesitantly, he reached out to Nightlight once more –

—And snarling darkness engulfed him.


	10. Sooner than I will live with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Computer Crashed And Took My Notes: The Age Old Story. Thank you all for your comments, kudos and support! You have not been forgotten and this story will go on.

Jack was dreaming. 

Or it felt like he was dreaming. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept or needed to sleep. Dreams were the purview of the Sandman and Guardians rarely need to. Even before his Oath, Jack could hardly remember the times he slept.  
But he was dreaming. Dreaming in a black void. 

“Jack!”

Jack spun around, shocked. That was his sister. Where was she? Was she a figment or another memory coming to light? He ran into the darkness, groping his way with his staff.

“Jack.”

He froze, suddenly aware of a pressure behind his back, leaning against him. She was shorter than him, with long cascading hair that tickled his back. Jack couldn’t move. He knew that voice intimately now, knew it like he knew the veins across his palms, mapped out in detail. Still, he whispered her name, like a benediction.

“Katherine. . .,” 

He couldn’t see it but he felt her silent smile, stretched across her cheeks, “Hello, Jack.”

All his reasons, his demands, his need for answers seemed to shatter under the weight of her voice. She sounded so _young_ , almost younger than him and that broke him, broke the Guardian part of him, to think of a child gone before their time. He sucked in a deep, needy breath and she laughed softly at it, with the breeze of familiarity.

“Don’t be sad, Jack. I know it’s been difficult, but please don’t give up,” she said, little more than a murmuring zephyr.

“Give up on what?” he replied, “I’m not giving up on myself. I’m going to keep being me.”

“And you should. Don’t let anyone take that away. Not the Guardians, not Pitch. No one should take you away.”

Jack relaxed a little. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight the instinctive need to trust and _like_ this girl. He never wanted to hate her. 

He simply felt he had to fight.

“I still don’t know what you need. What you want,” Jack confessed, “I feel like I know you but I don’t know you well enough.”

She sighed, a tuft of air, “You’ve known me for a long time.”

“What?”

“I’ve always been with you, Jack. From the very beginning.”

“That’s impossi –,”

“Nothing is impossible,” Katherine interrupted firmly, “Not with Belief and the Man in the Moon.”

“I still don’t –,” 

“Then don’t try to understand, Jack. Don’t try to make sense with the head. You were born from the heart. Let that do the work.”

He spun around, but the weight was gone and the wind pushed him away. 

“Wait!” Jack called out, “Katherine!” 

But there was nothing but the wind as it pushed him away from the dream –

\-- Into the reality of Pitch fighting Nightlight. Light and dark were thrown around in the air like firecrackers, sucking out the colour of the world. Jack blinked frost from his eyes and unsteadily got onto his feet. What was happening?

“You’ll pay for interfering!” Pitch roared, a blast of nightsand accompanying his words. 

Pitch seemed different, Jack noticed. He was blacklight and darkness, with a tempest in his throat. He seemed only interested in hurting Nightlight and taking the payment out of his hide. For what, though? For Katherine? For Jack? 

Nightlight seemed no less deadly and powerful. Gone were the ladybug chirps and sounds, his silence was like a mountain and his light was burning the world out. 

_This . . . was bad_ , Jack thought. This kind of power being thrown around meant someone was going to get hurt . . . or die. He groaned, leaning against his staff. Whatever Pitch had hit him with had left him weak at the knees. He hardly had enough belief to stop this kind of maelstrom. 

Still, he had to try. Jack flung out his staff and sent a tower of ice between the two. Startled, they both stopped, their attacks hitting the ice and collapsing against it. 

“Can we . . . not do this right now?” Jack wheezed. It hurt to talk.

Nightlight immediately hurried to his side, chirping his moon sounds but Jack waved him off, looking at Pitch. An unholy mess of blackness, Pitch didn’t say a word, simply gazing at them with unfathomable eyes. Jack was about to speak when Pitch cut him off.

“You left.”

Jack closed his mouth awkwardly. He knew why he left, but in the sight of Pitch, he found his reasons clumsy and weak. 

“I was confused,” he tried, “I just – needed some time away.”

“Away from me,” Pitch replied, blank. 

Jack frowned but he nodded, “Away from you. Because I don’t think you told me the truth.” 

“ _I_ wasn’t the one who kept things from you, who _lied_ ,” he hissed.

“Maybe it wasn’t your intention,” Jack said carefully, “But I think . . . it happened anyway.”

Nightlight glanced at Pitch, solemn white eyes into the dark. Pitch seemed to coil around himself, trying to take it in without lashing out. Honestly, Jack was surprised they weren’t six feet under. Pitch wasn’t known for his calm temperament. 

_But then_ , he thought, _I would be hurt if someone left me_. 

“I want to try again,” Jack blurted out, “I want this to work.”

_Let your heart do the work._

He hobbled away from Nightlight, closer to snarling, breathing darkness and held his hand out, like Pitch had done only a few weeks ago. Silence clammed down onto the world, leaving nothing, not even the quiet breathing or the hammering of the heart.

But Jack could feel it anyway when Pitch took his hand.


End file.
